The Fault Line
by GypsyFilmGirl
Summary: Everything was wrong, and then you walked in, and it got a little darker, a little brighter, and saved me. {SL Fic Conversion of RP from @IntrinsicValor and @CaptainHeroHair on Twitter}
1. Chapter 1

A chorus of locker doors slammed shut as the warning bell rang and students began to scatter to their homerooms. Mystic Falls High's first day was already drumming up to being one of the best. As a group dispersed from the backside of the building, the impossibly-notorious odor of weed floated behind them. The Stoner Pit, which was located between the dumpsters and the cafeteria's truck dock, was home to a group of kids that were—inevitably –stoners. They hoarded together and shared stashes, came to class bleary-eyed, and by the end of the day were coercing to sit in the Old Wood to smoke more until dark. Every school year showed up new members who were a mixture of outcasts, rejects, and black sheep who found comfort in their own kind and in a joint. This year, as they disappeared into different rooms for their first class of the semester, Elena Gilbert spotted her younger brother, Jeremy, dragging behind. He was the last one in the door. It slammed shut behind him, and he saw her too. For a split second he thought about making something up to satisfy her, but in reality he could care less. This past summer had sucked and the Pit was his escape from the overhang it left behind. Elena had been breathing down his neck about his new posse, but he did his best to ignore her. Besides, she had more things to worry about than him. The building began to fall quiet as people vacated the halls, and he made it a point to skip out to the bathroom. Down the hall, Caroline Forbes babbled about her summer to a group of girls, and even further down the school jocks clustered next to the gym doors, waiting for the last bell. One girl hummed cheerily as she sorted through her locker, trying to stay the positive one for today.  
"First day of sophomore year. One year closer to graduation. This is a /great/ day," Bonnie Bennett chimed as she leaned against her locker door to close it. "I mean, we get out at noon. How great is that?" Beside her, Elena Gilbert picked fresh notebooks out of her backpack and laid them on the shelf in her locker just beside her. She was distracted, as she had been for the past two months, but she was slowly coming back to her old self. Bonnie just had to try sometimes to get it out of her.  
"I think we should go back to my place for lunch," Elena decided to smile. "Jenna tried her hand at cooking last night and, I'm scared to jinx it, but it wasn't that bad." She shifted her bag onto her shoulder and popped the door closed, glancing in the direction of her homeroom. The clock hung over the door was showing 5 minutes until the bell. She should go, she thought. Get a decent seat. It /was/ economics. And she was awful in it. "Closer to the front, closer to knowledge." Or something along those lines. Again, more of Jenna's attempt to parent. Elena didn't rag her about it, but she was doing good to just be thrown into a house with two teenagers and no clue what the hell she was doing. All their lives had been turned upside down this summer. It was hard.  
"Ahem," Bonnie coughed. Elena blinked, turning her attention to her best friend.  
"I'm sorry, what did you say, Bon?"  
"/I said/ hottie at three o'clock. Principal's office, front desk. He's wearing /leather/," Bonnie purred a little, darting hazel-green eyes at the door just across the hall from them. Elena followed her gaze to the figure standing there. She wasn't lying. He was tall and slender, from what she could tell. His back was to them, but it wasn't hard to see that he was broad shouldered.  
"That is one hot back," Bonnie observed beside her, butting her shoulder to her friend's. "Go talk to him." Elena's eyes bulged. She opened her mouth to say "not now" because class was starting. As a matter of fact, the bell was ringing as she made herself stop staring and turn to Bonnie, but then she stopped. The back door of the high school building was slamming closed, a series of kids filing down the hall. She didn't need the accompanying smell to verify what they'd been doing as their early morning pick-me-up. But what made her angry, made her see a tinge of red, was her brother. He was mussed, looking half a mess; nothing like he normally would a few months ago. The entire summer he'd become a recluse and lately had begun delving himself into the drug scene: something Elena disproved wholeheartedly in favor of their parents.  
Elena shoved her backpack into Bonnie's arms, grinding her teeth as she made a beeline for the bathroom her brother thought he would escape from her in. But he was mistaken to think Elena wouldn't come after him. She stormed down the hallway, past the open door of the class she was supposed to be attending and into the men's bathroom. She pushed past another guy as he was leaving, slinging open the stall where Jeremy had his head thrown back, letting drops from a bottle of Visine fall into his eyes. She jerked his head down into the light, seeing the whites of his eyes were instead pink with intoxication.  
"On the first day of school? Really, Jeremy?!" she spat, letting him go as he swatted her away.  
"How about you mind your own business?" He blinked away the excess liquid from his eyes, rubbing them as he tucked away his drops. He didn't look at her because he knew the look he was getting. She was huffed up, lips pursed in disappointment and eyes shooting daggers. "I'll see you at home," he said simply, and brushed past her out the door.  
Elena pinched the bridge of her nose, breathing as she started to go out the door herself. She was tired of Jeremy being such an ass. She knew that right now it was crap, and she knew he was partially mad at her, but he was a jerk almost around the clock. He never socialized with her or Jenna, and trying to talk to him about what was going on was like trying to pull teeth. And she was just tired. Now late for her first class, she pulled open the door to hurry. But she almost slammed into what felt like a wall. Some stout, old cologne filled her nostrils and she stumbled back, seeing the guy with the hot back there. Elena felt her face flush as she stumbled to apologize.  
"Isn't this the men's room?" he asked as he squinted at the sign above her head. He was incredibly handsome was her first thought. Bright green eyes watched her, and it was…a little hypnotic.  
"I was…My—long story that's way too complicated." The guy nodded, then offered to step aside, but so did she.  
"Sorry," Elena muttered, and they both side stepped again in the same direction. She let out a nervous laugh, the guy gently taking her shoulders, one in each hand, and guiding her past him.  
"See you around," he chuckled, giving her a smile. She gave one back, but had trouble tearing her gaze away from him as she walked back down the hall to her class.

 _Dear Diary,_

 _I really don't know if I can do this. It's only the first day, and Jeremy's pressing me with his new 'hobby.' Bonnie is my constant cheerleader, but really, I think I need more time. I want to move past it, but I didn't think it would be this hard. I was so sure about this yesterday. How can it feel so wrong so quick—_

"Elena."

I tore my attention from the journal on my desk, quickly snapping it closed. At the front of the class, Coach Tanner was glaring at me. Obviously I'd missed a conversation or a question, because he was awaiting a response.

"I'm sorry—"

"You weren't paying attention. I noticed," he snapped. He didn't hesitate in moving on to the next person. I blew out a breath, already more than ready to leave here. A few moments later, the bell rang and people scattered to put their books away. I stacked mine, grabbed my purse and exited out the door in the back of the class with a few others before Tanner could call me back for /any/ reason.

"Wanna go to the Grill with Care and me?" Bonnie rounded about the corner of the hallway. "I'm really craving some of their fries, and Caroline's buying," she tempted with a sing-song tone. I laughed a little, but quickly shook my head. I had other plans.

"No thanks, Bon."

"Lane!" she huffed. "Come on. Get your mind off things. Girl's night."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning." I went on, dropping off my books at my locker. "We'll take my car this time?" Bonnie looked really downtrodden I'd said no, but she curled her nose and waved me away.  
"Alright alright. I'll see you then."

Contrary to her beliefs I wasn't becoming a recluse. She wanted to think I was, and she worked damn hard to try and pull me out of the shell that was my bedroom. In reality, I was really just trying to cope. Four months had passed, but I still had nightmares that woke me up at night and left the accident a fresh imprint on my mind. I felt like, every day, it had just happened. I could hear the squeal of tires on tarmac, the impact of the car against the barriers on the bridge as it sailed off. And then, sometimes, I honestly expected to open my eyes and find it just a nightmare. Others, I waited to see a drab room surround me in the Mystic Falls General Hospital, where I'd magically transported after the wreck, and where my life would fall apart all over again. But every day passed, and I didn't go without making a point to sit with my parents in their final resting place in the town cemetery—where I felt I should be. Jenna told me to think about going only a time or two a week, but I couldn't make myself do it. Not yet. Maybe tomorrow I'd take Caroline up on her offer, after cheer practice, which I'd skipped all summer. Something to take my mind away from them. But today, I walked the path I'd worn between rows and rows of buried people. And near my grandparents, in the same Gilbert lot, where two plots were just beginning to cover with ripe new grass, I sat in the middle and began to rifle through my bag to finish my diary entry that Tanner had interrupted. I felt my heart sink when, after dumping it out on the ground, that the green leather book wasn't there. I rifled through pens and handouts, but nothing. /Oh god./

"No no no. I /just/ had it," I mumbled. I hadn't put it in my locker. It was just my textbook I dropped in there. /Wasn't it?/ Getting to my feet, I jammed the contents back into the canvas bag and strung it back onto my should. I just prayed no one was low enough to actually open and read my diary. As I started back towards the way I'd come, I saw a figure near the gates. He stood at the brick column, almost as if he were trying to stay hidden. But when he realized I'd seen him, he almost reluctantly drug himself out of hiding. Even in the rather-warm weather, he was still in his black leather jacket, and he started my way. I felt a little uneasy because, why was he here? And had he been watching me?

"Can I help you?" I said a little flatly, but I tried to stay friendly. He stepped closer to meet me.

"You come here often?" I felt a little offended, and I bit my tongue.

"Daily," I said smartly before going on. "Were you watching me?" I prodded, holding up a hand to shield my eyes from the shining sun.

"I was, but I was trying to be sure I wasn't intruding or anything." I cocked my head at him. I couldn't decide if he was being sincere or cynical, but I was suddenly reminded of the whole reason I was leaving. The school closed in 30 minutes, and I needed to find my diary.  
"Look, I don't have time to do this. Maybe later," I brushed him off, putting a tombstone between him and myself as I started to leave.

"I think you lost this?" I turned, and he had a green leather book upheld in his hand. The embossed 'E' on the corner shone at me, and I was suddenly so relieved. But then I tensed, and he must have sensed it because he chuckled.

"Don't worry. I didn't read it. I…keep one, too. I know how personal they are." He gingerly laid the book back into my hands.

"/You/ keep a diary?" I rose a brow. He shrugged.

"Journal is a preferable term, but yes. I like to write down my memories. So I won't ever forget." I smiled a little. How often was it you met a man who was sentimental like that?

"I'm Stefan, by the way. I know you from the men's room but—"  
"Elena. Elena Gilbert," I laughed, cutting him off. "I promise that's not a regular thing." He laughed, waving a dismissive hand.  
"Not worried. I assumed by the pissed look on the guy's face that came out before you, it was a dispute."

"My little brother. He's a jerk sometimes, and I try to set him straight. Key word, /try./" I tucked my diary away and hoisted my bag back up onto my shoulder, deciding to change the subject. Jeremy wasn't on my list of things to worry about. If he wasn't worried, why should I be? "Anyways. I should probably go. I've got homework to do." Stefan nodded, glancing towards the sun that was starting to hang low in the sky.

"May I walk you?"

"Oh, you don't have to. I live just a few blocks away," I said, pointing a thumb over my shoulder. "Will you be at school tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I will," he nodded. I smiled.

"So see you then, maybe?" I said it hopefully, because to be honest, I was kind of interested in this guy. Much to my pleasure, he smiled back at me.

"Yeah. Sure I will. See you then."

I really didn't mean to let her rope me in like that, but I did. I was so sure she was Katherine, preying on some poor humans or just making the most of her time in Mystic Falls for some unknown reason, but she was already proving me wrong. I'd spent time reading, delving into records. She was a real person. A human being. A replica of Katherine Pierce that was so near identical, it was astounding. But I could tell, within a few conversations, there wasn't a chance this was some divine sham. She was different and beautiful, and I scolded myself about lingering around her. If she was a human, let her be. But I couldn't. I wanted to know more about her. Even if it were just for a little while, I was okay with that. Because while part of me wanted to do what was best for her, another part just wanted to /know./ That's why a few days later, I found myself asking her out. I couldn't help it. And with her acceptance, I was going to get what I wanted. Just give me a taste, and I'd let her be.


	2. Chapter 2

For the rest of the week, I passed glances between Stefan in the hallways. We'd gotten scolded in class for not paying attention, which had only ended up humiliating Tanner much to everyone's appreciation. I found myself thinking about him far too often, spacing out when I should have been listening, and that bit me when Bonnie finally took notice.

"Ask him out, Elena," she demanded. "Ask him to drive that car of his." We sat outside between classes on old concrete tables since the benches had long fallen apart. It was Friday, and I was half through with the homework I'd debated on skipping for history. Now I was having second thoughts and scrambling to get it done. I rolled my eyes, returning to my paper.

"No way, Bon." I heard her huff at my reply.

"Are you crazy? He's so into you! He'd say yes in a minute."

"Bonnie," I started, letting my tone fall as quiet as I could. I saw Stefan near the parking lot, leaning against a tow-away zone sign. "I am /not/ asking him." Those green eyes landed on me all the way across the lawn, and a crooked bit of a smile touched his lips. /Good. God./

"Whatever, then," my friend answered, throwing her hands up. "But I swear, you two will end up together. I know it." I laughed.

"Right. Gotta get that first date though," I snarked, forcing myself to turn back to my work. I delved myself into the book in my lap and started jotting down vague but fitting answers, seeing the hand on my watch move closer to two o'clock. I groaned. Why did I think I could consciously skip this? This class was my worst, and frankly I showed no interest for it. But that didn't mean I didn't have to pass it. Civil War, Pearl Harbor, the Watergate Scandal; I knew everything about it, but I couldn't tell dates to save my life. Near the last question the bell rung, cutting my time short. I cursed, but shut the book and gathered my things.

"Going my way?" Stefan had his hands buried in his jacket pockets as he paused near my table-seat. I hopped down, hoisting the bag onto my shoulder.

"Unfortunately," I mumbled. Discreetly doing a once over, I noticed he didn't have a book, paper, or pen on him. "Did you do the homework?"

"Already done," he shrugged. "It was easy stuff." I was slightly jealous. He was quick to spit out dates and facts to Tanner as if he were a book himself.

"You should tutor me," I slyly proposed. "You're such a buff." He chuckled.

"I just have a good memory is all." He held open one of the double doors of the building, gesturing me to pass ahead of him. I did so with a smile, Bonnie and my's conversation still elbowing me. "So, what are you doing tonight?" Stefan quickly caught up with me, and I shrugged, trying to act like he hadn't just read my mind.

"Nothing. Why do you ask?" /Like you have to ask, Elena,/ I thought to myself.

"Because I think we should do something. You and me." I felt a grin spread over my face.

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

He rolled his shoulders. "Yeah, I guess I am." He began to smile. "So is that a yes or a no?"

I laughed. "I think that would be fun. So yes."

"Eight o'clock? I'll pick you up?" I grinned.

"I'll be waiting."

"Literally twenty minutes before I /said/ you would date him. I'm telling you," Bonnie sang through the phone. "Psychic." I rolled my eyes as I touched up my eyeliner in the dresser mirror.

"Shut up, Bonnie. It's /one/ date," I chuckled.

"And then another. And another…" I could hear the smile in her voice. I shook my head.

"I'm hanging up now," I announced, mocking her tone. "See you Monday." She cackled, a goodbye entwined with it echoing from the speaker as I ended the call. Damn Bonnie. I tucked my phone into my jacket pocket, checked myself for the hundredth time in the mirror, and blew out a breath.

"One date," I said to the person staring back. Nerves were getting me. I'd probably never been nervous about a date, but this one—I was. Totally nervous.

Making my way downstairs, I heard a voice from the kitchen. Jenna had caught sight of me and was going a fuss.

"Mm. /Going somewhere?/" A knowing smirk coated her lips as she sipped from a steaming mug of tea. She was hung over the island among papers and open books, studying for her last courses. I don't know how she did all her classes, her studying, and worked, but I praised her for it.

"As a matter of fact I am," I said in a matching tone, reaching for the door and shooting her a proud up-turn of the lips.

"I won't wait up for you," she waved.

Outside, Stefan was already there, leaned against his old red Porsche and waiting for me to come out. I suddenly felt a little bad. I'd never heard him pull up, so how long had he been here?

"You look nice," he noted with a smile before I could even open my mouth. Pushing himself from his prop, he gracefully opened the passenger door for me.

"Nice car," I smiled back as I slid in. Stefan flipped the keys out of his pocket and started the car. Its engine purred, pleased to be going again.

"Thanks," he chuckled. "I'll let you drive it sometime." I watched as he shifted the gears with the stick in the floorboard to leave the curb, my mind recalling Bonnie's jab from earlier. "So, how against nature are you?"

"What?" I laughed, breaking my thought.

"Bugs, leaves, dirt—do you mind it?" He glanced over to me, and I was really confused.

"Uhm…no, not really. Why?"

"We're going hiking." I blinked.

"At night?!" He laughed.  
"The only time to go," he chuckled. He sped to the other side of town, towards the west border of the town. The setting sunlight was barely enough to see, the hazy evening hue seeping through the trees. I couldn't disagree—it was peaceful. But really? Now? He slid the gear into park as he stopped near the beginning of the treeline. I rose a brow when I figured out he was really expecting me to get out and go with him.

"Are you crazy? There's some creature out there killing people. We're setting ourselves up." It wasn't a lie. Just last week, a few people had been reported missing. Within a day of the alert, they were found dead near their campsite just a few miles from here. Throats torn and bodies contorted, it wasn't clear what it was, but the police said to stay away from places—such as these –after dark. Stefan opened my door for me again, and tall weeds met me as I started to get out.

"What's out there—you don't have to worry about," he nodded, holding out a hand for me to take. I hesitated because, in my mind, this felt risky. Like some horror movie plot waiting to happen. "I'll keep you safe. I promise." I gave him a nervous smile and took his outstretched palm, letting him guide me down a gently worn path of leaves, pine cones, and broken limbs.

"Okay, so we're here, in the woods. At night mind you," I started. It was an effort to tune out the hooting owls and singing crickets that, any other night, would be soothing. Now they made me nervous.

"I know. It's weird. Sketchy, maybe. But I promise it's worth it." He held back a low-hanging limb, ushering me ahead. I snorted, still nervous.

"I'm /skeptically/ taking your word for it." I dodged ahead, and I heard the faint sound of water in the distance. Were we really that far out? My ankles wobbled in some of the rougher terrain as we trekked closer. A moment later, he grabbed my hand and pulled me in another direction and, after a moment, I realized we were going towards the water. I felt a little nauseous; the last time I'd heard that sound, I was flying off a bridge. But I bit my tongue. I didn't want to ruin the night with a imprinted anxiety.

"Close your eyes," he said as he paused in a clearing.

"Why?" I pried, narrowing my eyes at him. "Where are we going, Stefan?"

"Just close your eyes," he said again with a minute little smirk. I semi-glared at him for a minute before finally letting my lids fall closed. Stefan's hand found mine and began leading me. With each minute that passed the sound of water grew louder and I had to force myself to focus on something else—crickets, owls, the crunching leaves—anything. When we finally stopped, he let my hand go and simply said, "Look."

Mystic Falls hadn't been named what it had for no honest reason. At the heart of the county, which was also the heart of the Old Wood that surrounded the town, were the Falls: beautiful, cascading natural waterfalls that poured out of rock walls in the sides of grassy hills. Grey stone was flocked in moss that, at any other time, would be green. But the moon that was so bright and full bathed everything in a peaceful blue hue. The water that pooled at the end of the falls sparkled with the moon's reflection, making it one of the most beautiful things I'd seen in a while.

"Oh. Wow," I said simply, because I was stunned. Not many people knew this place existed. Or if they did, they didn't think it to be a place to visit.

"Like I said. The only time to come is about now. Especially tonight." He peered up at the moon, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"You know about this place?"

"Founding family perks," he jabbed. He wasn't lying. "You've been here before?"

"Once, a really long time ago. But I haven't been back since. And I've never been at night. It's beautiful." I kept watching the water absolutely twinkle with the reflection, almost hypnotized.

"We'll come more often, then," he smiled, glancing back to me.

"Maybe we should," I returned, feeling a little flushed. Thank god everything was in moonlight out here. "I just have one request." Stefan rose a brow, but then nodded.

"Sure. Anything."

"Tell me first. That way I can wear reasonable shoes." I sat on the flat stone ground and began to shed my heeled boots. He chuckled, joining me.

"You know, in all the things we've talked about, you've barely told me a thing about you," I pointed, propping back on the heels of my hands as I looked upwards. The stars shown so bright out here, it was like a whole new world, and I couldn't pull myself away. And even though I wasn't watching, I could sense the shrug Stefan was giving me.  
"What do you want to know?"

"Everything," I quickly answered, but I picked a question to start. "Where did you come from? I've never seen you, but you're a Salvatore."

"I moved back from being with family up North. I used to live here, but I was homeschooled. I just really wanted to come home." I laughed a little.  
"To Mystic Falls?"

He shrugged. "Home is home." I nodded, agreeing with him. Sometimes I got tired of it, but he was right. Home was home.

"Your parents were okay with it?" He was quiet for a moment, but then he spoke and I was suddenly mortified.

"My parents aren't alive anymore."

"Oh," I pipped. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." He gave another shrug.

"It was a long time ago."

"I get it. Mine are gone, too," I rasped. "They died in May. Car accident." He gave a small nod, watching me. I realized I was rigid. I hadn't talked about my parents since they died, just because.

"It gets easier," Stefan finally spoke. "It starts out hard, but eventually, over time, it gets a little easier."

"It changes you." Again, he nodded. I let my feet touch the surface of the icy water, listening to the fall of the water. Here, it was calming. I didn't feel sick at the trickling sound.

"What do you do in your spare time?" I chimed in, trying to kill the silence between us. "You're never in town." He chuckled, skipping a rock across the rippled surface of the water. It hit twice and then plummeted to the bottom.

"I read a lot. Study a lot of history. Kind of my thing."

"That's been established. /Thank you/ for that, by the way."

"Ah," he waved. "He had it coming. He's an ass." I laughed.

"You're not wrong. He's /always/ been that way. Driver's Ed was a nightmare. I barely passed that class." Stefan made a sound next to me and I jerked my head in his direction.

"Erm? What does /that/ mean?"

"Barely passing driver's ed?" He was grinning and I could tell he was joking. "I'm glad you gave me some forewarning."

"I'm not that bad," I rebutted matter-of-factly. "I've run a stop light a few times, but who hasn't?"

"I may go back on that offer," he said tenatively. "For Red's sake."

I snorted a chortle. "/Red/? Oh gosh. You're one of those guys who name their cars." He shrugged.

"It's been with me longer than anyone else. I can't /not/ name her."

"/Her/?"

"Okay, okay," he laughed. "I get it. I'm the stereotypical guy."

"There are a lot of people who wonder about you," I noted as I drew a foot underneath me. "You're the mystery kid. Mainly because you don't socialize."

"Hey. I socialize."  
"With me."

"Maybe I pick favorites." I saw a smirk coat his lips as he threw another stone. "Needless to say, I usually keep to myself. But I met your friend the other day. The blonde?"

"Caroline?"

"She all but asked my blood type." He laughed, but I flushed, knowing that she did that for me. Not that I had asked, but she was curious as a cat and didn't hesitate in asking questions of anyone. And with a subject like Stefan, she saw it as her chance.  
"Yeah. She does that. She /did/ tell me you were a Scorpio." He laughed under his breath and I rose a brow at him. "What?"

"Was she your gopher?" Again, I flushed, but I didn't rolled my eyes to play it. /Damn it, Caroline./

"Self-assumed. But I wasn't going to /not/ pay attention either. I got /some/ information." I propped my chin in my palm, shrugging. "I don't regret it."

In the distance, thunder started to roll. I hadn't even paid attention, but nearly two hours had passed and a storm was threatening.

"I think we should go," I heard Stefan ponder as he searched the sky. Above us, the stars were starting to dwindle out as a blanket of clouds moved over. He graciously helped me up, and I jammed my feet back into my shoes.  
"Unfortunately," I agreed, brushing dirt and leaves from my jeans, but I smiled. "We can always come back."

"Just say when," Stefan grinned.

All the way back, I was eaten up with the idea that this guy—someone that was so seemingly wonderful –was interested in me. But it was only date one and I refused to let my mind jump ahead. /One date, Elena,/ I reminded myself. When we finally arrived at the car, I decided to hold out. Would he let me? Really let me drive his mechanical baby? Stefan opened the door, but I stood back and rocked on my heels. He gave me a questioning look before he saw my eyes flit to the keys in his hand.

"Oh no."

"Come on. /Please?/ It's only once."

"It's stick shift. I don't—"

"I know how," I cut him off, taking a few steps closer. "My dad taught me. Prerequisite for even getting my own car." He rose a brow, and I nonchalantly slipped the key from his hand. He looked as skeptical as I felt coming out here. He eventually forced himself into the passenger seat as I adjusted the mirrors to suit me.

"I promise. I won't hurt her," I said with a side glance as I engaged the clutch and started the engine.

"I believe you," he said as he eyed my movements, and I saw him relax when he saw that I, indeed, knew what I was doing. By the time we reached the front of my house, his concern was gone. I beamed inside because, in reality, it'd been a few years since I'd even sat in a manual transmission car. I killed the engine, and the sound of Bon Jovi's voice disappeared.

"I don't disapprove of your music taste thus far," I said, gathering my things. "Bon Jovi, The Cure, Aerosmith."

"I prefer the classics. Some new stuff, but not a great deal."

"Mm. So…Green Day?" He laughed.

"Yeah, actually."

"Maroon 5?"  
"Saw them in concert once."

"And what about country?"

"Eh," he cringed. I laughed. "I'll take a rain check on that." He climbed out of the car and before I even turned around, he was opening my door. /I swear this guy./

"Thank you for tonight," I smiled up at him as I stood. "I really liked talking to you." He smiled back.  
"You even got a joyride out of it."

"Unintentional. But I wasn't going to pass up an opportunity." That garnered a laugh from him, and I felt him drift a little closer to me. My eyes skimmed over him, up his chest, his arms, fleeting a glance over the defined features of his face before resting on his lips. Slowly, the space between us closed until our lips finally met. It was soft, but passionate. Gentle, but powerful. And I found myself not wanting it to end, even after he broke away. I glanced up at him from beneath long lashes, tucking my things to my chest as I caught the breath he'd stolen.

"Not so stereotypical," I said softly to him, smiling sweetly as I stepped around him to go inside for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

With a snap I let the cover of my journal fall shut, fingers drumming against the leather surface in thought. Two months. It had been two months since Elena and I had met. Two months since I decided that I would just /see/ if she was Katherine, playing along in some of the games she formulated out of boredom. /Just long enough to see. Then I'll go./ That was the promise I'd made to myself. But as soon as she said hello to me, I knew I was helpless to her. Whether she was Katherine or Elena, she would haunt me. So I stuck around, thinking that eventually, she'd give up on the charade, if there was one. But now I knew: there was no act. This girl—this beautiful, kind, loving woman—she was completely genuine. An unfortunate copy of one of the most hated people in my life, but unique in her own way. I watched her every day we were together, thinking that something would happen. Something she would do would tell me she was really Katherine, and she was just playing with me yet again. But the longer I stayed, deeper and deeper I fell. I told myself, every time we kissed goodnight /this is the night I go./ Because staying, with my curse, would only curse her. No human deserved to be raked into a life that was immersed in death, and nothing but a life of death itself, making new enemies and never settling down. And despite that, I still stayed. I even bargained with myself that if I left today, it wouldn't hurt her as much. That it was just two months. Nothing to me who lives an eternity, but way too much to eat of her precious but limited time. I couldn't be with her. But did I ever even try to leave?

Not even once.

These two months had morphed into three, and Elena and I had been branded as an item. I was eyed often by Bonnie, who was wary of me from the get go. She was a witch. She had her reasons. But at the same time, I knew it was because, to her, I was treading on her best friend's heart. And she dared me to screw up even once.  
"You can't let her bother you. That's just Bonnie," Elena would laugh when I mentioned it, but I just wished I could tell her why she really looked at me that way. Because she knew I wasn't right. She just didn't know I wasn't human.

I cranked the old red Porsche and rubbed my frozen hands together as I started up the heater. In the bench seat beside me, I picked up the wooden box that held the old vervain-laced necklace I'd decided to give to Elena this evening. On the outskirts of town, some vampire was causing an upset among the town. People were dying, and the police said it was some animal. They weren't wrong, but they weren't right either. And whoever it was, I wasn't going to let them get to Elena. The idea of her hurt, incapacitated, dead, or worse—I wasn't able to stomach it. It started to get warmer in the cab of the car, and I stared at the walnut jewelry case in my hand. Why could I not let her go? My mind was constantly strung between trying to leave this town and her behind and trying to protect her from this part of the universe she didn't and didn't need to know.  
"It's because I love her," I said to myself, thumping the case on the wheel of the car, a mixture of happiness, disappointment, and self-hatred washing over me at the sound of it. Inside, I knew. But to hear it was different. It made it real. And I couldn't help but wonder if she loved me back.


	4. Chapter 4

I sat at the bar of the Grill, waiting for a moment to swipe a table for Stefan and myself. The place was packed, and he was nearly an hour late. Texts kept getting answered with "on my way" but somehow, something felt off. Stefan was never late for anything. I told myself I was overthinking, that something had just happened. I distracted myself by fawning over the idea of an order of fries just to tie me over until he decided to show up. Hot from the grease and striped with ribbons of ketchup. And because I was that hungry, I flagged down the overworked bartender and put in an order.

"You sit at the best bar in town and order fast food over liquor?" said a voice that /wasn't/ Stefan's. I shrugged.  
"My date is late and I'm hungry. He's lucky that's all I'm ordering," I said sort of bitter, leaning against the shiny lacquered surface of the bar. I looked to the guy who had taken upon himself to join me. He was tall, thin. Piercing, crystal-blue eyes met mine and they were so intense it was purely shocking. He was almost familiar, as if I'd seen him before.

"Stood up? What an idiot," he said quickly, ordering another of the drink he'd finished off. Bourbon straight, top shelf. Fancy.  
"Not stood up," I corrected. "We've done this a hundred times. He's just…running late. Or something." I waved the idea away, knowing better than what this man suggested. My fries arrived, fresh and hot like I'd dreamed. My stomach lurched in approval at the smell, and I fetched the lone bottle of ketchup from the other side of the bar where I sat. I didn't want to bug the bartender anymore. He was slammed with orders.  
"I see," the man said, sipping on the dark-colored booze. "You look oddly familiar. Do I know you?" He leaned forward, thick brows cinched a little as he studied me. It was slightly uncomfortable, but I just obliged to be nice.  
"No, I don't think so," I said thinly. "I live here, so unless you've just seen me around, I don't believe so." He narrowed his eyes at me, and I was suddenly riddled with the worry that the place he /had/ seen me was in the newspaper the last week of May. The Miracle Girl from Wickery Bridge. /Can we not?/

"I'm Damon," he said instead. A flood of relief. "I know you said you're waiting for someone, but can I buy you a drink?" I shake my head.  
"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm sure that my boyfriend will be here any minute now."

"Then at least your name?" I pursed my lips, sort of annoyed with this guy, but anything to get him to hush at this point was okay with me.  
"Elena Gilbert," I replied. He nodded.

"Pretty name." I gave him a flat smile.  
"Thanks." I took out my phone, starting yet /another/ text to Stefan. /If you're not here in the next five minutes, I'm going home./ The air felt awkward. I wasn't one to socialize much with people I didn't know. This guy, obviously, was much different.  
"You're a Founding Family," he decided to point out. He leaned against the bar, too, twisting his glass as if he were bored. I popped a fry into my mouth. /Damn/ they were hot. I nodded.

"Yes, there's five of us," I said slowly. "Fell, Forbes, Gilbert, Lockwood, and—"

"Yeah. Salvatore. I know," he cut me off, ordering a replacement for his now empty drink. When had he even taken a sip. I rose a curious brow.

"History buff?" If he wasn't going anywhere, the least I could get out of it was some small talk until Stefan decided to show.

"Something like that," the man named Damon muttered, greeting the bartender with a quick, flat smile as he gave him a new dose of booze. "I know a rather good crapload of it, you could say. Such as those Salvatores. /That's/ a history book in itself." I narrowed eyes at him, confused, curious, and suspicious.

"Go on," I said. The fries I had were no longer piping, and I pushed them away. But as I prepared myself to hear a little more on the mysterious group of the Founders, I felt a hand on my back. Damon stopped, and I /really/ found myself wishing Stefan could have been a few minutes later.

"Sorry I'm late, but it looks like you made a friend in the meantime." He seemed testy, those mossy green hues piercing Damon who, frankly, didn't seem to let it phase him.  
"Mhm. You were late. Had to entertain myself somehow," I said nicely, but still with the intent of it being a clapback. "We were just talking about the Founding Families. Seems he knows a bit about yours." I rose a brow, waiting for Stefan to prod this guy for the rest of our conversation.  
"Oh, you know. Just some old rumors. Still rather juicy, though," Damon said, meeting Stefan's glare with a bit of a smirk. God. Talk about tension.

"Mm. I bet they are—sorry, your name?" Stefan said sharply. "You must be passing through."  
"Damon," the other man answered, "And maybe. I've found things are pretty interesting around here." His eyes suddenly fell on me, and I itched. "Might stick around a while." I jabbed an elbow into Stefan's ribs as I decided it was past time for us to go. But the glares Stefan was giving made a bad feeling in my gut grow with every passing second. We /had/ to /go./

"We have those reservations in Richmond, Stef," I calmly "reminded" him, dropping a five dollar bill onto the table. In a gentle movement, I weaved my fingers through his and tugged. Stefan finally nodded.

Outside, Stefan wordlessly opened the door to the car for me and I, silently, got in. He was thinking about something, and I wondered if his mood had come with him or had stemmed from the interaction that had just taken place. He drove, still not speaking, and not even putting the radio on a station to fill the void. It didn't take long for me. After a few long minutes, I couldn't stand the quiet anymore.

"Are you okay? You're not in the best mood, I've noticed." He shook his head.

"Bad day," he answered in that same short tone, and I felt just a little stung as he muttered. "Really bad day." I quickly fumed at his expression—one of pure annoyance, and I decided to fix it for him.

"We don't have to go out tonight, Stefan. If you're in a mood—"  
"I'm /not/ in a mood," he shot back, but his tone softened about three levels. "I'm fine. In fact, I've been looking forward to this all week. Caroline has you cheering four days a week now. I've barely seen you."

"You see me in history."

"With Tanner breathing down our necks? Hardly counts." He chuckled, and his hand found mine to bring it to his lips—a gesture that never failed to make my heart flutter. /Damn./ "I hope you like what we're doing tonight." I began to smile.  
"Oh? What's that?"

"I'm making you dinner. Wine, a fire."  
"You really missed me."  
"Of course I did."

"Sounds amazing," I smiled, letting myself out of the car as he stopped. Inside, he started the fire for it to get hot and I migrated to the kitchen in search of something I could do to help. I found a knife and a cutting board, but before I could find anything else I was being shooed from the countertop.

"I'm trying to help!" I defended as he pulled out the bar stool for me to sit.  
"/I/ am cooking for you, remember?" He slung a dishrag over his shoulder and for a second I thought I might faint.  
"Come on. All I get to do is watch? This isn't Food Network," I poked. Stefan drug a menagerie of raw food from the fridge. He rose a brow me.  
"I thought you told me you couldn't cook." I huffed, rolling my eyes.  
"I didn't say that /exactly,/" I mumbled, shaking my head. "I said—you know what? It doesn't matter what I said." That earned a good chortle from Stefan.  
"Okay okay, fine. Get over here and start cutting." I beamed, hopping down off the stool like some thrilled little child. He handed me the knife in his hand by the butt end. "Careful. I just sharpened them." And he was right. The edge glistened in the overhead light as it left his hand, polished and clean.

"So what exactly are we making?" I ran the ripe red tomatoes under a stream of hot water and stripped them of their stems. He had just started dicing onions, my eyes already watering from the potent smell that was wafting this way.  
"Spaghetti. Simple, but I know you said it was a favorite." I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering when I might have. /I/ couldn't recall, but it didn't make it any less true.

"Extra cheese?" He held up a fresh, sealed bag. My lips stretched into a very happy, pleased grin.

"You're the best." He chuckled, giving the sauce a quick stir before he turned to into me, kissing my cheek and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I'm holding a knife," I reminded with him a smirk, sliding a diced tomato into a bowl and finding another.

"I have something for you," he spoke in a low tone in my ear. I laid down my tool, curious, and turned. His hand was behind him, and I eyed him as he pulled out an old wooden box. "Open it." He seemed concentrated, worried as he put it into my hands. It was old. The hinges on the side tarnished with decades of age. I ran fingertips over the lid before opening it, nervous but curious. Was this something important to him? Some special family heirloom? And not only that, but I reminded myself: /We were rather serious./ But did I realize we were /that/ far? I suddenly felt a little dip of anxiety as the lid opened.

Inside, I found a necklace, the style of it probably matching the age of the box. A silver pendent embellished with some odd but beautiful design sat on the velvet-lined bottom, strung on a matching chain. As I took it out, a single ruby glistened in the kitchen lights, adding to its unique allure.

"Stefan, it's beautiful," I said quietly, almost unsure if I should have accepted it. But the smile Stefan emitted—there was no way I could say no.

"It's something I've had for a long time. I'd really like if you'd wear it for me." He took it from me, offering to clasp it about my throat, and I obliged.

"Thank you," I beamed, giving him a gentle kiss as he started back for the boiling water on the stove. I found the knife again and began to finish my part of the meal. "I'll never take it off." I let the knife graze down the green stick of celery, and my mind drifted for a quick moment. I don't know what to. I just knew that I felt the sharp edge of the blade slice me, and blood came to. I yelped, Stefan jumping in his place at the stove.  
"Are you okay?" I stole his dishcloth, dabbing my wound. The white fabric turned red, but it still bled. I just nodded. I'd been through worse. It would stop soon enough.

"It's fine. Can you just—" But when I turned to him, he was gone. He'd /bolted/ and I was alone.

Upstairs, I was breathing. Heavily. Fighting. Barely winning. /That smell./ I growled at myself, angry that I my control was so weak.

/No. You don't do this,/ I hissed, biting back those thoughts, those carnal /needs/ that were threatening me. And as hard as I tried, the thoughts seemed to win.

/The sound of heart./

/The skin of her neck./

/The taste of her blood./

One.

Taste.

But I couldn't. Wouldn't. Elena? Never. I cared for her. I didn't want to hurt her.

"Stefan?" Closing my eyes, I breathed, ignoring that other side and darting into a bathroom and finding a first aid kit. /Keep it together./

I trampled back down to the kitchen, popping open the kit.  
"Sorry. I couldn't remember where it was," I lied, swallowing as I unwrapped a pad of gauze for her. She was watching me, those pretty brown eyes narrowed to slits.

"You're squeamish," she accused. It wasn't totally wrong. I went along with it.

"Hey, I'm doing what I can!" I opened a bandaid, but that was the extent of my abilities. I could see the stained rag on her hand.

"It's barely a nick. Must have grabbed a vein or something. I'll be fine." She unwound her hand, revealing an incision no larger than an inch on the side of her palm. It had stopped bleeding, but it was pink and irritated. Clean. I took a breath. I felt that surge of want and turned. I could lunge. One cell of my mind could say yes, and it would all be over with. She'd be a cold heap on the floor. I'd be /satisfied./ But this was Elena.

/And I thought I was protecting her from Damon with that necklace./

"Are you okay? You don't have to stay…" I cleared my throat.  
"Uhm…yeah. Fine."

For now.


End file.
